A Single Step
by Little Yellow Sunflower
Summary: 'The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.' Or; Sometimes, the best place to start a story, is The End. When Arthur Kirkland was fifteen, he burnt his hands severely, damaging the nerve-endings. His family, who was often absent (and rather distant, anyway) sent him to a rehabilitation center to recover. His journey starts there.
1. The End

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, nor do I make any profit from the creation of this fic.

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**"That story? Well, I guess the best place to start is the beginning. Today though, we're going to start with the end. Why? Oh, it's so much more fun this way! No, really. I promise."**

'Some people say that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, and I guess those people must be right, because I took that step, and walked more then just a thousand simple miles. It was only a little step, but once I took it, I never looked back. Once I took that one little step, I ended one story and began another. A story never truly ends, you know. 'The End' is just the place where the pages stop, and no one knows what happens. Or that's what they say at least.

That little step I took turned out to be the biggest step I ever took, and for that I am glad. That little step turned into another, and that one? It turned into yet another, and another, and another. A few more little, tiny, insignificant steps, and I was running head-first down a steep hill with no intention of stopping. They say time flies, but I don't think anything ever flew as fast as I did when I was running down that hill.

A hill can only go on for so long, though, and eventually I did reach the bottom. I hit the bottom as hard as anyone ever did, and for a good long while, I sat there. I sat there for two whole years, just looking at the hill I had run down. Something got me on my feet again, though. A request, from a little boy long forgotten in the sands of time. So I took one last look at that hill. A good, long, and hard look. I looked so hard I think I must have gotten a headache! When I was finished with that one last look, I turned around, and ran up the next hill.

I ran, and stumbled, and cried, and screamed, and loved, _and I lived_. It was a Sisyphean effort, or so it seemed. Here I am now, though, a tired old man standing at the top of another big hill. A tired old man, who's damn close to taking one last step, before he runs down this final hill, back to the bottom. Here I am at the top of this hill- no; this mountain, and I will finally allow myself to turn around and say: "Look there! I remember that!" and "Oh, that was when...".

Not once have I looked back, after I looked at that hill, but here I am. Finally, finally I can see the fruits of my labor! My children and grandchildren, my work, and wife! There they were, and here they are! They are behind me, and before me! Listen to me, my family; before I run down this final hill, so much like the first, I must tell you this! I love you.' - an excerpt from 'The End' by Arthur Kirkland

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Whew! It's been quite a while, hasn't it guys? I have, in fact, deleted 'All Around the World'. I feel like it's time to move on from oneshots, and try to finish a chapter fic. I really hope you like 'A Single Step'!

Much love, Little Yellow Sunflower

Posted On: 10-7-13


	2. The Beginning

**"Now then, to the beginning! The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, you know. Sometimes, though, that one step can be the hardest to take. You see..."**

When Arthur Kirkland was fifteen, he burnt his hands severely, damaging the nerve-endings. His family, who was often absent (and rather distant, anyway) sent him to a rehabilitation center to recover. It was clean, and the walls were an off-white color, but it didn't matter. When Arthur had first woken up, the first thing he had noticed... was nothing. It was the numbness in his fingers that he noticed first. The absolute feeling of nothing, from the wrist down. He was conscious just long enough to realize that, before he passed out.

The next time he woke up, he saw the bandages wrapped around his hands and lower arms before he felt them. Actually, he didn't feel them at all, so saying that made no sense. Hah. No sense. Arthur snorted at the pun. Then he went to smack himself in the forehead, because he was talking to himself in his head again. His arms felt like lead weights though, and he only managed to shift them. So lost was he in his thoughts, that he didn't even notice when a nurse came in.

"Mr. Kirkland?" She asked, raising her voice ever so slightly. He snapped out of his silent reverie, apologizing profusely. "Sorry, so very sorry! I just... zoned out there, for a second!" He stuttered, tripping over his tongue, which felt like a cotton ball in his mouth. "It's perfectly fine, Mr. Kirkland. I understand." The nurse assured, adding a warm smile for good measure. "Ah! Where are my manners?" The blond boy asked himself, once again trying to slap his forehead to no avail. "Please, call me Arthur." The teen managed to slur out his request, before slipping back to sleep.

After that, the days seemed to blend together. He spent a lot of time staring out of the window in his little room, just breathing. Not much changed outside that little window during the week's time, but on Saturday evening it rained. It didn't just rain though, it poured. Lightening crackled loudly in the frenzied downpour, and for once, Arthur didn't want to look out his window.

Turning his gaze from the furious storm, the teen jumped in his bed when he saw a little boy standing in the doorway to his room. The door was closed with a tiny click, as the kid stepped further into the room. With a tiny huff, the blond haired boy flopped into the chair that sat in the corner. Bright blue eyes stared at him for some time, before the older boy snapped out of his trance-like state.

"What are you doing in my room?" Arthur demanded, green eyes flaring irritatedly. "Sittin'." The strange child replied easily. This made the teen stop, as he tried to find a proper response for the simple answer. For a few moments, Arthur sat in silence trying to find anything to say. When he had finally gathered a legitimate excuse for kicking a kid out of his room, he looked up again. The kid was gone as quickly and quietly as he had arrived. Turning back to the storm outside, the teen didn't know when he fell asleep.

When he woke up, he decided he must have dreamed it. Shifting his attention from the odd dream to the nurse, he politely asked for something; _anything_ to do. The man had scratched at the back of his head, trying to find something for him to do. Eventually, he apologized, and stepped out of the room.

Not three minutes after the nurse left, Arthur got another shock. The boy from his dream (it was rapidly becoming reality) was stepping into his room. "G'mornin'!" The kid proclaimed happily. Before the teen could respond, the younger boy started chattering about what he had done that day. Arthur made to shoo him, but found that he made surprisingly good company. He told the other so.

With a laugh, the boy smiled. Arthur felt like the only thing he could compare it to was the sun. This time he said nothing. For thirty minutes, the boy just kept on speaking. When he was finally finished, Arthur was falling asleep again. The younger slipped out of the room, quietly. When Arthur woke up, he was alone for not quite ten minutes before the strange child a walked into the room again.

This time, it was Arthur who greeted him. Oh yes, the teen thought to himself, he _does_ smile like the sun.

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Onward, my friends! It's progressing well, but the chapters are pretty short. That's intentional, I promise. I only want so much in a chapter, so that I can make it more detailed.

Review if you feel like it.

On a side note; Ice-cream cake is delicious.

Have a lovely day,

Little Yellow Sunflower

Posted On: 10-8-13


	3. I'm Alfred, and Alfred is me!

It was after the strange boy left for the third time that Arthur realized he didn't know his name. Then he remembered that the boy didn't know his name, either. With a sigh at his forgetfulness, he resolved himself to waiting until he next saw him. For what seemed like the fiftieth time, he looked out the window.

Arthur didn't have to wait long, because the boy was back the very next morning. Just as he had the previous day, the blue eyed boy bade him a good morning. Returning the greeting this time, Arthur shifted. "What's your name?" He asked, shuffling the sheets when he move again. "It's Alfred!" The kid answered, proudly. When asked about it, he happily replied "I'm Alfred, and Alfred is me!" with great gusto. With an upward quirk of his lips, Arthur provided the same courtesy; "My name is Arthur." He stated.

This got a bright grin, just as brilliant as the one he had received before. Once again, the fifteen year old was reminded of the sun.

~Little Yellow Sunflower~

Alfred kept visiting every day, for a week. Sometimes he was there for a few minutes, and sometimes he was there all day long. On Sunday, though, Alfred was late. He didn't come see Arthur until just moments before lunch. The younger blond had burst into the room rather suddenly, a massive grin stretched across his face.

"Arthur! Arthur, this is my friend, Ludwig!" He proclaimed, gesturing wildly towards the tall german boy he had dragged with him. Said german boy just dipped his blond head in greeting. It took Arthur no more then 10 minutes to figure out that Ludwig wasn't very talkative- or at least not with people he didn't know very well. To Alfred though, it didn't matter, because within an hour, he- Arthur- had learned that Ludwig had a brother named Gilbert, and that he was brought here when he had damaged some muscles in a leg after he had broken it (that explained the crutch the older boy had come in with).

It took two hours for Arthur and Ludwig to find common ground, both sharing an enjoyment in strategic games. After that, they bored the 11 year old Alfred with talk of Chess, and Stratego, as well as several other considerably interesting games. When he could feel his fingers again, he owed Ludwig a few rounds of chess, and he told him so. This gained a tiny smile from Ludwig.

At the close of the third hour of nothing but chit-chatting, Alfred and Ludwig stood and left, Ludwig leaning on his crutch, and Alfred trotting along side him.. Alfred, of course, kept visiting, but Ludwig came around only every once and a while. When he _did_ visit, he hovered over Alfred like an overprotective watch-dog. He always had an encouraging word for Arthur, but the german seemed to view Alfred as a younger brother- Arthur could share the sentiment.

Knowing Alfred had really brought light into his days, Arthur thought during a quiet moment. Yes, he hummed internally, Alfred was a good kid. A good kid with a warm smile.

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I didn't want to write much here; it's really just a bridge for the next chapter.

For those of you who don't know: _**Stratego**_ is a strategy board game for two players on a 10×10 square board. Each player controls 40 pieces representing individual officers and soldiers in an army. The objective of the game is to find and capture the opponent's Flag, or to capture so many enemy pieces that the opponent cannot make any further moves. Players cannot see the ranks of one another's pieces, so disinformation and discovery are important facets to gameplay.

Have A Nice Day,

Little Yellow Sunflower

Posted On: 10-8-13


	4. The Dream-Team

After another week- this one marked the close of his first month there- a dull sensation returned to Arthur's fingers. Triumphantly, he had shown Alfred by opening and closing his hand. The younger boy had been ecstatic, promising something Arthur didn't quite catch, so fast was he speaking. The pair began testing just how much he could feel, by tapping, tugging, and making him lift things.

The sensation was very vague, however, and he often couldn't feel the softer touches. Also, despite him being able to open and close his hands, the movements were clumsy, and he had to watch his fingers when he wanted to lift something. Arthur didn't care how little he could feel, only that he actually _could_. He was ecstatic at the tiny response, though he couldn't find words to describe it.

Alfred had jumped up and dashed out of the room as soon as these little tests were done. With a bright laugh, he bounded down the hall. Alfred was back within five minutes, a beaming smile stamped across his face as he slid back into the room. Arthur had half a mind to ask him where he'd gone, but somehow, he felt he wouldn't get an answer. The teen stayed quiet. The younger boy would tell him eventually.

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait very long for the secret to be revealed. When the clock struck noon, Arthur and Alfred were ushered out of the room. Alfred walked ahead of him, and one of the nurses- Katie(?)- was at the head of their little group. "Excuse me, but where are we going?" Arthur asked, trying to keep up as best as he could. Katie opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by Alfred's abrupt "Shh!".

The nurse smiled indulgently at him, and didn't answer the question. After a few more moments in utter silence, the red-headed woman broke off of their little group. Alfred stayed in the lead. When Arthur slowed in confusion, Alfred bounced a little bit before proclaiming "C'mon, Arthur!" and taking off at a run. Sprinting to keep up with the faster boy, Arthur huffed when they finally came to a stop at a set of heavy double-doors.

Alfred pushed open the door slowly, straining at the weight of it. Arthur took one look through the halfway open door, and was surprised by what he saw. The younger boy ushered him into the room. It was a cafeteria. Alfred led him along by the arm until he came to rest at a table full of what must've been familiar faces.

Arthur was pushed into an empty chair, and then Alfred disappeared. Thankfully, Ludwig was there, and he was quickly introduced to the rest of Alfred's odd group of friends. Lovino Vargas was the first to be introduced. He had tried to commit suicide, and was receiving counseling for it. Lovino swore up and down that his brother was a pain, but you could see the love in his eyes. He'd try to tackle you if you said so.

Francis Bonnefoy had a severe case of amnesia. Nobody was sure if he would ever remember what he had forgotten. He had arrived knowing nothing of himself except his name and age. Occaisonally, he would suddenly switch from english to french, and only his nurse (and Alfred) could understand him when he did. Francis was a nice enough guy, once you got to know him.

Lilli Zwingli was perfectly 'normal', and Ludwig would be quick to defend her if she was slighted. She was a very sweet girl, but also very shy. Alfred was swiftly changing that, or so he was told. Lilli came to visit Ludwig as much as she could, and the blond girl revealed a brother named Vash. She was very fond of him, and it showed.

Kiku Honda was an honorable teen, though odd- and who wasn't, really? He was prone to seizures, and as a result in and out of the clinic quite often. Next to Alfred, he had been in rehab the longest. It showed when the nurses and he called eachother by their first names. Although Kiku was quiet, if you took the time to listen he had a great sense of humor. He would deny that repeatedly if you mentioned it.

After the introductions were out of the way, the stifling sense of awkwardness faded into the background. By the time Alfred returned with food for himself and Arthur, he found Arthur and Lovino locked in a battle to see who was more cynical. It was a close one, but it appeared Arthur was winning.

In less then six minutes, they were all laughing hysterically at some joke that Lilli had told. They started telling embarassing stories about eachother, only making their group laugh even harder. Life was good.

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Well, this was surprisingly harder to write then I had thought it would be. Oh well.

Posted On: 10-29-13


	5. Brother of Mine

Once, Ludwig's brother Gilbert came to visit. The older man- and he was a man, I swear- was an odd sight. He fit right in with what Alfred had taken to calling 'The Dream-Team' jokingly. With silvery hair, red eyes, and and all around strange personality, it was obvious that he was Ludwig's brother, though no one was entirely sure why.

He was the antithesis of everything Ludwig was. Gilbert was loud, and wild, and he had certainly been around the block a time or two. Not that Ludwig hadn't, but the german teen was very calm about it- much less self proclamation of awesomeness from the younger Beilschmidt brother.

Gilbert came to visit a few times while Arthur was there, but the first one was the most remembered. If Arthur _did_ actually remember it correctly, it had been a crazy day for them all. They had found out about Alfred's brother, which was probably why.

It had started off normally, just like any other day. There was nothing special about it. Or at least it was until Gilbert showed up. He had waltzed into Arthur's room like he owned it, and grabbed Ludwig by the shoulders. "Luddy!" He proclaimed, now draping himself across the chair in the corner. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend?" In Gilbert's tone of voice, it sounded like a half-command, and not a question.

Ludwig, whose face had turned pink the moment his brother said 'Luddy', looked rather put upon. "Arthur," The younger brother sounded strained "this is my brother, Gilbert." Alfred took it upon himself to waltz into the room at this time, Kiku not far behind. Arthur gave up hope of returning to the game of chess he and Ludwig had been playing.

Upon seeing the silver-haired man in Arthur's room, Alfred shrieked "Gilbert!" and tackled him. The man wheezed as the eleven year old collided with his stomach. "Hi- Alfred-" He choked out as the younger boy bounced up and down. "Gilbert! How's Mattie? How's my brother?" Alfred demanded, stilling. "Fine- he's doing fine, I promise." Gilbert proclaimed.

Alfred seemed to be pleased with his answer, and slid off of the older man's lap. With a nod to show that he understood, Alfred turned his attention to Arthur who was putting the chess set away. "Hey, Arthur? I'll see ya later, m'kay?" The younger blond assured, before turning to the two germans.

Gilbert grabbed Alfred up, tossing him into the air, and catching him. He cackled out a "Kesesesesese~!" before strolling out with his brother. Ludwig gave a half-way apologetic look to Arthur and Kiku, and then raced after his older sibling. They managed to catch the words 'damage control' as he shot through the now open door.

Kiku turned to Arthur, and the blond teen blurted out his question. "Alfred has a brother?" He wondered aloud. Kiku gave a nod. "Apparently." The japanese teen hummed. "We should ask him about it." Arthur murmured, watching the other set up the chess board again. Kiku nodded compliently. "Later, though..." He stated, moving a pawn into place.

As it turned out, later wasn't until mid-evening. Arthur caught up with Alfred, and asked what he had wanted to ask all day "You have a brother?" Alfred looked up in pleasant surprise. "Yeah!" He chattered "He's my twin, Mattie! He's super-duper awesome! Like, _really_ cool!"

Arthur wondered if this 'Mattie' was anything like Alfred at all. He never realized that he'd wondered it aloud.

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My chapters aren't very long, but I swear that it's intentional! I didn't want this to be a oneshot, so I hacked it into smaller bits and bobs.

Posted On: 10-30-13


	6. Make a Wish

Arthur was bored. Rather, Arthur was bored _again_. He was also staring out the window- _again_. It was also raining again. Seriously, did it ever _stop_ raining? Probably not, he mused. Arthur was bored because no one had come to see him that day. Not even the nurses who thought he was charming and would bring him a cup of tea if he said 'please'. That was odd, of course, but he didn't find it a cause to worry over.

Arthur wasn't worried because he hadn't seen Alfred all day, either. Obviously, that in itself was worrying, but because he hadn't seen the _nurses_, he wasn't. If he didn't see Alfred, then Alfred was usually plotting something. What the younger boy could be plotting required more thought. Arthur though an awful lot when Alfred wasn't around.

Sometimes he though good things, mostly about when he was young. When he thought of good things, he tried to think of his mother. She had died when he was very small, and with no father to be spoken of, his eldest brother Alistair had taken up the mantel. He didn't remember her very well, except that she loved him, and her smile was the warmest, and that she made excellent cookies.

Yes, sometimes Arthur thought good thoughts. Sometimes, though Arthur thought bad thoughts. When Arthur was masochistic enough to think bad thoughts, he thought of all sorts of things. Mostly he thought of his mother. Specifically, he thought of how she had died. It was his fault, of course. She had died in a car crash, and it was his fault.

He had been fussing in the back seat, and she had turned to see why he was being so grouchy. In that moment, they collided with another car, head on, going fifty-five on a rain-slicked back road. He had been too young to understand why his mother wasn't coming home. Yes, it was all his fault. At least, that's what he told himself when he thought bad things. Alfred never let him think such atrocities, not if he could help it.

Arthur decided to stop thinking about thinking, and averted his gaze from the window. He didn't want to watch it rain, anyhow. It must have been destiny, because the moment he turned from the gloom-and-doom weather outside, Alfred slid into his room. "Hi, Alfred." Arthur murmured, voice hoarse from lack of use. Alfred giggled, trying not to be blatanty obvious about his planning. It wasn't working, but he just flopped across the foot of the older teen's bed and started talking.

They both lost track of time, but Arthur guessed it must have been a reasonably long chunk because Ludwig poked his head into the room, and called for Alfred. Snapping to attention, Alfred launched himself off of the bed, and dashed out of the room. Ludwig smiled after him, not bothering to say a word to Arthur before he left. The door clicked shut quietly.

Alfred had been cagey when they were talking, denying claims of plotting for some time. The longer Arthur tried to drum up some explanation for his odd mood, the more confused he became. He wasn't entirely sure when he drifted off. In fact, he didn't even know he had fallen asleep until Alfred threw himself onto the bed for the second time that day. With a gasp, he jolted back to conciousness, and looked around confusedly.

Before he had time to wake up entirely, Alfred had grabbed his wrist. Arthur was dragged out of bed, and down the hall. "Wat... What're we doin'?" He asked, voice foggy from sleep. Alfred didn't answer, and Arthur wondered if he had just lost his metaphorical marbles. Reaching up to scrub at his eyes sleepily, Arthur walked with Alfred.

There was silence for a few more moments as Alfred leaned against the heavy double doors to the cafeteria. Arthur moved forward to help him open them, and pushed firmly on the bar with his mostly feelingless hands. As soon as the door was open, Alfred stepped into the room, followed by Arthur. He was led to the center of the room, by his wrist.

"Alfred- Alfred, really. What's goi-" His entirely reasonable question was cut off by shouts of "Surprise!" and "Happy Birthday!" from dozens of people. Arthur jolted In shock; how could he have forgotten his own birthday? Then he smiled. "Thanks, guys..." The now sixteen-year-old mumbled. Everything in the room exploded.

There was a large bit of shrieking and carrying on as everyone joked and got along. Alfred tugged at Arthur's sleeve and grinned. The older boy looked down at him, silent for a moment. "So..." Arthur asked "is there a cake?" Alfred's grin stretched even further across his face.

There was, in fact, a cake. Two cakes, actually. One chocolate and one vanilla; some of the nurses were allergic to chocolate. That was the excuse they gave. Whether or not those claims were true remained to be seen. It didn't matter. There were candles on the cake, and someone had turned the lights out. Arthur's world narrowed down to the sixteen candles. Dimly, he heard people singing.

Closing his eyes, Arthur remembered something his mother had said 'Make a wish, baby.' Arthur smiled again. He took a deep breath, and made a wish. Everyone was clapping now, and cake was being cut. 'Make a wish' he most certainly had, and for once, he hoped it came true. It was an important year for him, after all.

By the time the festivities were over, Arthur fell into his bed. He was exhausted, but Alfred was hot on his heels, very excited (or was it nervous?) about something. The younger boy stumbled into the room, a bright red package in his arms. He dumped in on Arthur's lap, and crawled onto the foot of his bed. "Open it!" Alfred demanded, tapping the parcel again.

Clumsily, Arthur began ripping off the shiny paper with determination. Strips and pieces of the wrappings floated lazily to the floor as he tugged at the corners and edges. When all of the paper was removed, Arthur finally got a good look at the present. It was a book of fairy tales, he realized. "Thanks, Alfred!" He yawned enthusiastically.

As his eyes drifted closed, book on a table, Alfred gone, and the paper picked up, he grinned again. He hadn't even realized that his brothers weren't there. Happy birthday to me, Arthur thought to himself. It was, wasn't it? Definitely was. For sure... Once again, Arthur wasn't sure when he drifted off.

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Another chapter of A Single Step done, and I've decided that chapter lengths are going to be random. I'm sorry about that, I really am, but once my inspiration for a chapter says "Bye-bye!", that's all folks. Anything after is sub-par. Luckily, I know what I absolutely NEED this story to have, and can otherwise let it run away with itself.

Posted On: 11-8-13


	7. Journal

Alfred was staring out the window. Alfred was staring out the window because he was bored. Alfred was bored _again_, and it was raining _again_. Did it ever stop raining? Shaking his head to clear those thoughts from his head, Alfred frowned lightly. That was funny, somehow, but he wasn't sure why. Then his face cleared, and he reached under his bed to pull out his notebook. Trying to sit back up, he dropped the little book, and had to dive after it.

After a few moments of feeling dumb, the eleven year old managed to haul it onto his bed. He turned the little tome over in his hands, memorizing every little detail. The red leather cover had a few scuffs on it, but it was in good condition, otherwise. His name was written on the spine, as well as the number one. Remembering his actual reason for fishing the book from under his bed, he opened it. Flipping through the pages, he absently skimmed through their text.

'- and he got me this new journal! I'm supposed to write in it every day, but I don't wanna run out of paper! Maybe if I do, he'll get me another one?'

He remembered getting the little notebook, actually. It was an eventful day. Good or bad, though, he didn't quite recall.

'- kinda scary, actually. Mattie's crying again. I hope he didn't scrape his knees! That's the worst.'

Alfred hated it when Mattie cried. It was probably the worst feeling in the world.

'It's really boring here, and there's nothing to do. I don't wanna be here, anymore! I wanna go home! At least Mattie isn't crying-'

At this point, he groaned and skipped a bunch of pages. He just wanted to find a clean page! His eyes flicked back to the leather-bound journal, and a sentence caught his eye. Alfred remembered that! That was the first time he had met Ludwig, and his brother Gilbert! What a crazy day that had been. Gilbert was a real spit-fire.

'- kinda quiet, and it's a bit odd. Gilbert's nothing like that. I like Ludwig anyway. I'm gonna draw him a picture. I hope he likes blue, because-'

Alfred skipped a few more pages disinterestedly. He stopped at random, eyes flitting over the page's content.

'I met someone new today! His hair is blond, and he has green eyes. I wonder if he's nice. I hope so! I don't want to be friends with a mean person! Anyhow, we had pasta for dinner, and-

Oh, he thought he could guess who past-Alfred was talking about.

'- learned that his name is Arthur. I told him my name, for sure. I didn't wanna be rude, or anything! It's not okay to be rude. At least, that's what-'

Ding ding ding! We have a winner! It was, in fact, Arthur!

'It's Arthur's birthday! He's turning sixteen today. I haven't seen him all day, because i'm planning something. I hope he likes it! I've been thinking about-'

After a few more pages of normal day-to-day chatter, Alfred came to a blank page. He quickly jotted down the date. However, having done this, he paused. What had he done today? The pen rested on the blank page again. It took a bit of time, but Alfred figured out where he wanted to start. Shifting his hand, he began writing.

In the quiet room, the scritch-scratch of his writing implement seemed infinitely louder.

* * *

A brief interlude into Alfred's space. Why not, eh?

Posted On: 11-12-13 (haha!)


	8. Nightmares

Arthur stared at the ceiling. It was dark in his room, but that wasn't odd. After all, it _was_ two in the morning. He really shouldn't have been awake, but the nightmare had seemed so real. The colors had been vivid, as opposed to the swirling fuzziness of dreams, his movements crisp, and fluid so very unlike the sluggishness of sleep. He did not want to go back to bed.

He couldn't anyway, not with his heart pounding in his ears. It was beating, loud and low, reminding him of war drums. The moon show through his half-closed curtains, bathing everything in a silvery light, and casting parts of his room into shadow. Intellectually, he knew that nothing lurked in those shadows. Intellectually, he was aware that the dark alone couldn't hurt him. Intellectually, those things didn't matter. The dream had shoved away all sense of reality, keeping him paralyzed in his bed, covers pulled up to his neck.

His eyes darted to the corners of the room, scanning them for movement. He was sixteen, but there was nothing scarier then the human mind. No animal could conjure up such horrors. Only a person had such an imagination, twisted and awful. Arthur took a deep, but shaky breath. He shook his head, trying to clear it. It was no use, because the nightmare was still fresh in his mind. The door creaked open, and Arthur flinched. Looking to it, he swallowed when he saw no one there.

The pitter-patter of feet on the floor was not a comfort, but a terror. When something grabbed part of his covers, he whimpered softly. A tiny hand appeared at the foot of his bed, and he stilled. What was it? A number of creatures sprang to mind, and he nearly kicked the hand. Alfred's face appeared just before he did, followed by leg as the boy tried to climb into his bed.

"Alfred?" Arthur croaked, voice hoarse from lack of use. He nodded, finally managing to clamber onto the top of the bed. Alfred crawled into Arthur's lap, and buried his face in the older teen's neck. When Arthur heard a sniffle, he pulled the boy closer. "What's wrong, Alfred?" He asked, releasing a relieved breath. Alfred mumbled something into his neck, and Arthur's lips quirked upwards. "I'm afraid I don't speak muffle." Arthur allowed, and Alfred pulled away.

The younger boy's face was flushed, and tear streaked. With another sniffle, Alfred looked up at Arthur. "I had a bad dream." He whimpered, burrowing back into Arthur's neck. The teen in question stilled, mouth open in a silent 'o' of comprehension. "Well then..." Arthur hummed "I guess you'll just have to sleep with me tonight." Alfred just nodded, not bothering to look up as Arthur talked.

The two settled into the bed, finally lying down. The pale light of the moon still streamed through the window, but it didn't seem so eerie now. Alfred shifted, face now buried in the older teen's side, and yawned. Arthur starred at the ceiling. It was dark in his room, but that wasn't odd. After all, it _was_ three in the morning. Nightmares weren't so scary once there was someone to talk about them with. He'd have to do that in the morning. He was tired. Arthur fell asleep.

* * *

I didn't have much inspiration for this one, hence it's so short. Go ahead and hit me with some prompts; there's still some time before Arthur's hands get better.

Posted On: 19-11-13


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